The First Day of the Disaster
by MorbidMan
Summary: As the title suggests, this is the record of the first day of the disaster. Each chapter takes up an hour of occurences (sort of like that series "24").
1. 12:00AM

12:00AM  
  
Jamie Anderson sat up straight in bed. She was soaked in sweat, which wasn't uncommon considering she slept under huge blankets while still completely dressed in the clothes she had worn the day before. She was breathing shallowly, and looking around her pitch black bedroom. It wasn't all that large. She didn't need a large room, or large house for that matter, because she lived alone. Of course she had an occasional guy over for a one-night stand, or a few nights, but she lived alone.  
  
She wondered why she was awake. Why was she awake?  
  
Jamie brushed her soaking wet, brown bangs out of her eyes and up into the matted mass of her hair. She then dried her now wet hand on her green sweater, which didn't help considering her sweater was soaked as well.  
  
Yes, she could've slept in the nude, or in pajamas, but she thought sweating was a healthy bodily process that was necessary for a true clean bill of health. That entire thought had been planted inside her mind by her mother, who had worked herself out to death. She had died from a heart attack at fifty three while running track for five hours. That had been two years ago.  
  
Why was she awake?  
  
Jamie was now thirty two years old, and hoping to settle down with someone soon.  
  
Why was she awake?  
  
She knew that the plan of marriage was within her grasp because of her considering bosom, huge ass, captivating green eyes, and soft skin. Everyone talked to her. She just mostly shrugged them off for some reason that was beyond her.  
  
Why was she awake?  
  
Was she thirsty? No.  
  
Did she need to piss? No.  
  
Was she hungry? No.  
  
Why was she awake?  
  
Curiosity overwhelmed her. She stood up and crossed the room to her bedroom door, which was wood. She grasped the cool handle, turned it, and pushed the creaking door open slowly. The open door exposed a small room that was furnished quite exquisitely. That room had two doors: one to the kitchen, one to the bathroom.  
  
There was a window in that room that wasn't covered by the blinds that covered her bedroom's window. That window let in orange and yellow light that flickered strangely.  
  
She crossed that room to the window and looked outside.  
  
The house beside her house was ablaze. It was burning rapidly, and there was no one around it trying to put it out.  
  
Jamie looked around the scene that her window displayed some more, and realized that there was a very reasonable explanation for no one giving a shit about that specific house: the other houses were on fire as well.  
  
There were two fire trucks, which were working on the two worst blazes. They were losing the fight. The fire was spreading onto the lawns, and cars were catching fire as well. One blew up suddenly, killing two people who were running down the street.  
  
There were many people running around the street. What were they running from? Where were they running to?  
  
Jamie was resolved to stay inside. It would be much safer inside.  
  
She kept that train of thought for a little bit at least. Then she realized that the bathroom was blazing, and the fire was spreading across the living room towards her. It was running on the walls and ceilings, vigorously eating up everything in its path. It was like the flames wanted to engulf her, wanted to consume her. It would eat anything that you fed it, and it would never be full. Not ever. Fire was a demon in its purest form. Nearly invincible, and very dangerous.  
  
Jamie turned to the window and started trying to pull it up. No good. She had glued it down when she had first got into the house because insects had been crawling in through the cracks around the windows. Figures. Fucking figures.  
  
Jamie spun around and charged towards the kitchen door. The kitchen led to the entrance hall, and the entrance hall led outside.  
  
She pulled on the door the first time, then slapped her forehead for being so stupid. You had to push the door open.  
  
She slammed the door behind her and headed to the entrance hall. She ran from the entrance hall to outside.  
  
Jamie burst out into the warm night air. She took a deep breath, hoping for that nice night air. She got the smell of burning wood, ash, smoke, and death instead.  
  
Death.  
  
That last one was the worst.  
  
Jamie surveyed the street not thirty feet from where she stood. People were running in every direction. Why were they running?  
  
Then she saw it. She saw the man with a stump for an arm bring down a child and start eating her. She saw the woman getting shot over and over again and not going down. She saw the cops hitting some people while swerving to avoid others. The cops succeeded sometimes in avoiding the others, sometimes they didn't.  
  
Jamie screamed, just like everyone else was. She screamed.  
  
That's when she saw the fat man with his entrails hanging out come barreling across the street towards her, roaring like there was no tomorrow. His hands were thrown out to grab her, and he ran amazingly fast for such a fat fuck!  
  
She turned and ran as fast as she could across her yard. Before she knew it she was two houses down, and the fat fuck had deserted her and gone after a woman with a broken leg. Jamie ignored her screams. The woman she had just unwittingly killed had been Ellen Poll, Jamie's neighbor and friend.  
  
Jamie kept running until she found someone getting dragged out of their car by a couple of these strange people. She leapt into the driver's seat, feeling a moment's guilt about capitalizing off of this man's death, and found the car started. She closed the door and drove off.  
  
The other streets were bad, and sometimes worse. There were crowds of people everywhere. She wondered why those people were eating the other people. What was going on goddamnit!?  
  
Jamie wasn't used to this automatic car. She had a manual car, too bad she hadn't thought to grab her keys before running out of the house. Too bad she hadn't gone to her car.  
  
Fucking A!  
  
She looked at the clock in the car.  
  
It was twelve thirty in the morning.  
  
The next time she looked it was twelve fifty.  
  
By that time she had gotten out of town.  
  
The windshield was smashed to shit because of some rioters, and some of those weird cannibalistic people. The back windows were smashed in, blood was smeared on the hood of the car from when she had hit one of those cannibalistic people, were they people? And her hair was a tangled mess from when someone had crashed into the back and grabbed at her. She was crying uncontrollably and did not even realize it.  
  
Out of town was no better than in the town. It was probably even worse.  
  
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()  
  
Hey, MorbidMan here. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm going to have another twenty-three, considering there's still twenty-three hours left of that day that Jamie's in. Please review!  
  
"When there is no more room in hell, the dead will walk the Earth."-Peter "Dawn of the Dead" (the original) 


	2. 1:00AM

1:00AM  
  
Jamie spiked the brakes as an ambulance came rushing through the intersection right in front of her. The ambulance was being chased by a crowd of those… people? Were they people? They couldn't possibly be. No. They weren't.  
  
Jamie watched the crowd of at least fifty of those things pass by her chasing that ambulance. Then sped off as another crowd came chasing after her. They didn't relent while she drove at twenty, thirty, forty, or even fifty. Every time she glanced in her rearview mirror they were still running after her. Stumbling, tripping, crawling, leaping, and running perfectly for the back of this stranger's car.  
  
Jamie looked down at the radio, throwing back and forth in her mind whether or not she should flip it on. Would the news be good, bad, or both? She looked around at the fires she was passing, at the innocents being tracked by the not human people. They couldn't be human. Humans didn't continue to persist after being riddled with bullet after bullet to the chest. Humans didn't eat other humans in the middle of the day while somehow ignoring the fact that they have a knife stuck in their chest.  
  
She flipped on the radio, hoping to God that the news was good.  
  
The first station was a preacher station. "When there is no more room in--," the preacher was saying when Jamie flipped to another station.  
  
"If you are in an area of devastation, please report to one of the following f--," Jamie flipped again. She wanted to know what was going on, nothing else. Just a simple explanation was all.  
  
The next station was still playing music. How the hell were they still playing music at a time like this!? Jamie flipped the radio off and shouted out in frustration.  
  
She spiked the brakes again as a little child of about ten ran into the street. The child was very small, male, and completely covered in blood. It turned to look at her through the windshield, growling. Its teeth were completely exposed considering the child had no lips. It appeared to be smiling for that reason.  
  
Jamie sat there in shock for a few moments. A few moments was too long. The thing charged at her and leapt up onto the hood of the car. It screeched at her, clawing with its fingers, which were skinless and ragged with muscles and bone sticking out, against the windshield.  
  
"What the fuck are you!?" Jamie screamed. She threw the car into reverse, and stomped on the gas.  
  
She backed up for about ten seconds before the thing that used to be a child fell off of the hood of the car. Five seconds after that she devastated a few of those things with her back bumper. The others rushed at the sides of the car, trying to tip it over.  
  
"Stop it!" she started chanting. She threw the car back into drive and stomped on the gas again.  
  
She ignored the vibration as she hit, and crushed, the body of what used to be a child.  
  
They weren't alive, they couldn't be. They were walking anyway. How was that possible? How the fuck was that possible!?  
  
Jamie sped through the streets, barely aware of what was in front of her vehicle at any moment in time. She hit a couple of those things before a panicking man crashed into the back of the car with his car. She felt herself thrown into the window, heard the cracking as a spider web of cracks spread over it, and ultimately blacked out with her head resting against the steering wheel.  
  
___________________________________________________________  
  
Harrison was half stoned off of the fumes from his ruptured car by the time he had fumbled the door open and stumbled out of the car. He turned to look around, highly confused about what had just happened.  
  
He remembered that those zombies (he had come to that conclusion about what they were) had been chasing him like there was no tomorrow, but he didn't remember what had happened after that.  
  
He remembered everything else about his life, like that his last name was Jackson--a last name for which he was constantly mocked for, considering Michael Jackson had the same last name, and he was very weird--, and that his favorite thing to eat was… well, that would be inappropriate to mention now wouldn't it? Anyway, he remembered a lot of shit from his life, but the last unknown amount of time he couldn't remember.  
  
He didn't even remember getting in the fucking car!  
  
Harrison scanned the scene. There were people running around everywhere frantically, zombies chasing them frantically, and ambulances speeding around… frantically.  
  
There was a car that was demolished which was very close to his car. There was a woman inside who was sleeping against her steering wheel.  
  
What if she's not sleeping?  
  
What if she's dead?  
  
Or, what if she's… worse?  
  
It was an almost ludicrous concept for there to be something worse than death, but there was nonetheless.  
  
Jamie had different thoughts about the concept of death. She believed that there was no real proof that it was a bad thing, considering no one living had ever experienced death. Permanent death anyway.  
  
Harrison thought death was one of the worst evils of the world. Isn't diversity great?  
  
Anyway, Harrison trudged forward across the cold, rain drenched pavement toward the woman's car. He was suddenly very scared, wondering whether or not he should just get the fuck out of there.  
  
He had once had a stray cat that came through his back yard back when he was a child. That cat he had kept well fed and warm most of the times, but sometimes it would stay far away, off doing whatever stray cats do. He had loved that tiger-like cat to death, even though he had never picked it up or anything, his parents had always told him to be wary of stray cats because they had RABIES. RABIES were very bad his parents had always said, so he never wanted to get RABIES.  
  
So, one day the cat had been limping through the yard with a broken leg. Harrison had desperately wanted to help it, but it might have had RABIES, so he stayed away. He figured that some other family would get it to a veterinarian. Unfortunately no one cared about the damn thing.  
  
Harrison had found it gutted in his driveway the day afterwards. It hadn't been killed by a man, it had just simply been incapable of outrunning whatever the hell had killed it.  
  
You know what the worst thing was? He had never even known if that thing had possessed RABIES. He had been so scared of something he couldn't have been certain about, and a death had come out of it.  
  
He needed to be certain this time around. He didn't want his fears to kill someone like they had that stray cat. So he trudged closer and closer.  
  
When he was close enough he grasped the door handle, and pulled the door open.  
  
He felt the woman's wrist for a pulse, and by God there was one! He let out a cracked laugh, and then snuffed it quickly. He didn't want attention drawn to him, especially from those zombies.  
  
"Well," he spoke to himself, a habit that he was not embarrassed of. "At least she isn't a zombie herself. Now get her in your car, and take the fuck off."  
  
He got her out of the seat, which was easy considering she had never thought to put on her seat belt, and turned back to his car. That's when he realized something drastic: his car was totaled.  
  
"Oh fuck."  
  
Harrison wasn't much of a body-builder, and the woman weighed quite a lot to him. He looked around desperately for a place to settle to no avail. "Oh fuck," he repeated.  
  
Not only was his strength failing him, but he had a cut on his forehead that was bleeding.  
  
He was trying desperately to keep his knees from buckling, and the smell of the blood coming from a cut in his forehead was beginning to turn unwelcome heads.  
  
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()  
  
Hey, MorbidMan here. Suspenseful eh? Maybe not, but it's my first attempt at a cliff-hanger so far at fan fiction, so bear with me. Also, could you check out my other stories? One is a crossover between "Resident Evil" and "The Matrix" which is pretty decent despite how ludicrous it sounds. The other is a comedic crossover between "Sonic the Hedgehog" and non other than "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre".  
  
I capitalized "rabies" in Harrison's flashback because Stephen King did so for important words that the kid in "The Shining" thought about in Stephen King's narratives. I thought it was neat, so I applied it here. Check back for more updates… and review this! NOW!  
  
"You're all going to die down here."-Red Queen "Resident Evil" 


	3. 2:00AM

2:00 AM  
  
Harrison took one step towards the closest house to the site of the accident. It was a shaky, small, and energy depriving step, but it was one nonetheless. Then he took another and another after that.  
  
(Feets don't fail me now.)  
  
He could hear roaring from behind him. The zombies were coming. Good God they were! He didn't even need to look back to know that. He did look back though.  
  
There was a crowd of at least thirteen or fourteen of those zombies rushing at him… and her. He surprisingly enough had forgotten that he was holding the woman in his arms despite the fact that he had only picked her up a minute or two ago.  
  
He sped up his steps and took longer strides. The zombies were still gaining on him though. Who the fuck wouldn't expect running zombies to catch up with a resplendently slow human being?  
  
He knew he wouldn't make it to the house in time, and he didn't want to go down without a fight. For that reason he bent his knees and roughly laid the woman on the damp grass and turned to face the growing number of zombies rushing at him.  
  
"Come on you fuckers!" he shouted after taking a sumo-wrestling stance. Spittle flew from his lips and some dripped down his chin. He paid no attention to the saliva, only the zombies. "Come on then!"  
  
The zombies were halfway across the road when suddenly a speeding bus came crashing into the street and hit seven of them, spraying their rotting body parts and their blood everywhere. The others were blocked from view of him by the bus, which was going a good seventy or eight miles an hour, and they forgot about him. The rest of the zombies followed the bus that had killed their comrades, ignoring the fact that they were getting shot to death by a passenger at the back of the bus who possessed an M-16.  
  
(Thank God.)  
  
Harrison turned around to the woman again and strained himself to pick her up. Once he got to an upright position he started taking those pained steps forward again. When he reached the door he grabbed the door handle while balancing the woman in the crotch of his elbow and turned it. Miraculously the door was unlocked.  
  
He pushed the door open slowly, marveling at his own good fortune. Inside there were two dead bodies and one zombie. At that point he was kicking himself for even thinking that he would be greeted by a different sight.  
  
The zombie was standing in the arch that led into what looked like a kitchen. The arch was the only exit from the narrow, decorative entrance room other than the steep stair case that led into a hallway on the second floor of the house.  
  
The two bodies were those of young children, one male and one female. They were wearing white pajamas that were now stained with their own blood. The zombie's slightly rotted face ever so slightly resembled the face of the dead boy which implied that the zombie was their father in life. The zombie-- which was wearing a torn red tee shirt and dirty, wrinkled blue jeans-- turned and saw Harrison standing there with the woman in his arms.  
  
"Oh fuck," Harrison muttered under his breath as the zombie took one running step forward.  
  
Luckily enough for Harrison and Jamie a middle-aged, attractive woman burst out of the kitchen with a magnum in her hand and blew the zombie's head apart with one shot. Apparently the brunette was trained with a weapon. Hopefully she had more weapons for them.  
  
Then the woman stepped up to what was probably her husband's or boyfriend's dead body and emptied the revolving clip into it, sobbing all the way. Even after the gun was empty she kept firing, ignoring the fact that it was giving off a mechanical click instead of a boom that ended with a hole in whatever the muzzle was pointed at.  
  
"YOU FUCKER! YOU FUCKER! YOU FUCKER!" she was chanting through the tears.  
  
"Whoa lady!" Harrison screamed and the woman jerked around to face him and aimed the gun at him. "Calm down! Just breathe for a moment!"  
  
The woman's eyes were wide with fear. She appeared unable to realize that he meant no harm. Then the woman tilted her head slightly and looked behind Harrison. She screamed.  
  
"SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR YOU COCK!" she shouted at him.  
  
Harrison bustled in as quickly as possible and dropped Jamie on the floor without bending over. He hoped that wouldn't have any long term effects on her.  
  
Then he turned and slammed the door. He had only caught a glimpse of the renewed crowd of zombies coming for them, but a glimpse was enough.  
  
The door wouldn't hold them out for more than thirty seconds… if even that.  
  
"We have to get out of here!" he hollered at the woman with the gun.  
  
She looked at him shaking for a moment and then snapped back to reality. He noticed that her eyes were avoiding the dead bodies completely. She was even closing them when she got them a little at the edges of her vision. "I - I have a c - c - car in the garage. It goes f - fa - faster than mo - ost."  
  
"Let's go then!"  
  
He gathered Jamie up quickly and started hurrying after the woman with the gun. The first zombie started banging on the door. Its fist went through it on the second bang. Windows were smashing open in other areas of the house. The zombies were in.  
  
Harrison followed the woman with the gun into the garage through a door in the kitchen and cringed at the car. It was an old, beat up Ford pickup truck that looked about to fall apart at any moment. The woman with the gun was behind the steering wheel already and struggling with the engine.  
  
Harrison got into the passenger seat with Jamie laying across his lap and slammed the door behind him.  
  
"GODDAMN YOU!" the woman with the gun shouted at the car as she turned the key again and failed to start the engine again.  
  
A zombie smashed the door that separated the kitchen from the garage in and rushed at the car. The car's engine blazed alive and the woman slammed on the gas pedal.  
  
(Put the pedal to the metal.)  
  
The garage door had already been opened for some reason. The woman driving the car, Olivia, knew it was because she had tried to escape already with her husband and children. Only one of the zombies had managed to get Jack, her husband, before the engine had turned on. Olivia had collected the children and herded them into the entrance room. They had gone upstairs only to be chased down by Jack's zombie form. The kids had been killed in the entrance room and she had gone into the kitchen and grabbed her magnum from the topmost cupboard that was far from the children's reach. The magnum had been bought for protection back when there had been a string of murders in the city. They had never needed to use it until now. Olivia wondered where the zombie that had murdered Jack had gone. Then again: who gives a shit?  
  
Olivia now sped the car out into the street, plowing down a zombie or two on the way. Thank God the zombies were rotted, otherwise their more solid form would've demolished her vehicle.  
  
She drove as fast as the shitty assed car would take them-- 60 miles and hour-- and made it out of the city in thirty minutes. It was then 2:48.  
  
It was then that Jamie awoke.  
  
!!!$%$%$%  
  
"AHHH!" Jamie screamed after her eyes flickered open and she remembered what had happened.  
  
"Relax!" Harrison ordered. This strange man that she was sitting on quite comfortably dared to order her to relax? "Fucking relax!"  
  
"What's going on!? What's going on!?" Jamie demanded to know.  
  
She then recognized that she was in a vehicle, and it was slowing down considerably. She looked over at the driver.  
  
"We're getting the fuck out of Dodge is what's going on!" the driver replied. She looked sad, grieving over some loss of hers that Jamie honestly couldn't give a shit about. There were fresh tear stains on the woman's face. That didn't inspire any sympathy from Jamie. "No shut up and let me concentrate on keeping our asses alive!"  
  
The driver's voice cracked on the last word. She then looked as though she was replaying something in her mind.  
  
Jamie kept her mouth shut for the next five minutes and then the clock turned to 2:54.  
  
"Where are we?" she asked.  
  
"We're on an interstate highway," Harrison informed her. "We left Jamestown twenty minutes ago. Now we're heading to wherever the fuck we can."  
  
"How long was I out?" she asked. Harrison looked down at her.  
  
The truck inside was dirty. Mud foot prints had been stained into the rug on the floor of the truck. The seat looked like half of a couch and it indeed was. The steering wheel had been snapped in a couple of places but was still good for driving with. Jamie was surprised the thing was allowed on the street by law, or if it was.  
  
"About forty or fifty minutes…" Harrison then wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. "What's your name?"  
  
"Jamie," she replied. "You?"  
  
"Harrison."  
  
"I'm Olivia," Olivia chimed in in a hitching voice. She was crying. "I'm sorry. That was my family back at that house."  
  
The car was gaining speed again. Jamie lifted her head and spotted wrecked and flaming cars dotting the area. Zombies were running about after the remaining survivors.  
  
How could this have all happened so fucking quickly?  
  
It wasn't what was happening that scared Jamie; it was how quickly it was all happening. About three hours had gone by and nearly everyone was dead or deadish.  
  
She looked at the digital clock on the car's radio.  
  
It turned to 3:00AM.  
  
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()  
  
Hey, Morbidman here. Sorry for the long waiting time between updates. I hope you liked this. Review it!  
  
Jamestown is a city near where I live in New York State. I DON'T live in New York City. There's a difference between the city and state. Not everything in New York is a big city.  
  
How'd you like this?  
  
"You walk on both legs homo-erectus. Wait, did I say 'homo'? I DIDN'T MEAN THAT!" - Kenny "Half Baked" (a movie starring Dave Chappelle) 


End file.
